


But it never cuts you quite as deep as that First Time

by cgee



Category: New Girl
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 14:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13660986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cgee/pseuds/cgee
Summary: A series of unconventional 'firsts' for our favorite loftmates circa end of S5. Multi-chap but drabbley.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends! I actually wrote this in 2016 (sheesh) on ff.net, but since I finally got an AO3 account I decided to transfer them over because why not? 
> 
> Annnyway, all of the drabbles are written in order EXCEPT for the Nick one closer to the bottom (and the Jess/Cece/facetiming one can kind of be seen as a whenever type thing). The general consensus is about it being "firsts," which I kept intentionally broad for obvious creative liberties. It's literally been done for 2 years, so, y'know, no waiting on chapter updates or anything.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own New Girl. Also joke's on y'all because I don't own the story title either- it's based on lyrics by Vance Joy. I chose them after much debate over that or Sheryl Crow, but ultimately decided to stay at least a little more culturally relevant (again, we're talking about 2016, people).

 

The first time Winston tells them, the whole loft brushes it off, barely even sparing a passing glance his way when the words came out of his mouth. He has to admit, he couldn't blame them. Even he thought he-  _Prankmaster Flash himself_ \- was being one-upped when he first heard the news. It takes him a few more tries and countless rolled eyes from Aly until reality finally sets in among their crew.

"Aly's pregnant."

Winston has been telling Jess, Schmidt and Cece daily for the past five days, adding more bombastic detail each time to try and seem more convincing, but only leading them to think it was just more icing on the cake of his typical hijinks. After all, this was the man who was still married-  _as a prank_.

It's actually taken more work from Aly than himself.

"Okay, guys, honestly. I know Winston has a rep around the loft. And the police department. And the closest Whole Foods. But please- just listen to him this one time. Put reality aside, if not for him, then for me," Aly pleaded, though she wasn't angry or upset, just hormonal and tired of hearing Winston rehearsing his updated news announcement that he'd deliver the following day, only to be brushed off once again.

Sighing, the three finally abandoned their respective tasks and slowly, cautiously approached the central area of the living room, perching lazily on the couch, not yet choosing to actually commit to taking a real seat.

"C'mon, make yourselves at home…in your own home," she sighed, trying to lure them to get more comfortable.

They hardly budged, still glancing at the two with skepticism. Jess looked like she was waiting for something unexpected to pop out at any moment. For a second she imagined if the surprise would possibly be Nick- she would consider it Winston's best prank yet. Not to mention what she imagined going on afterwards behind closed doors.  _Yep, all a total 100% prank_.

"Jeeze, how much pranking do you do when I'm not around that they literally have  _zero_  trust in you?!" Aly grumbled under her breath in astonishment, which was met simply with a knowing smirk and sideways glance from Winston.

"Anyway, look- for literally the tenth time this week, the news is true- Aly's pregnant!" Despite having said it handfuls of times already, he didn't have to fake his enthusiasm, as a genuine giddiness bubbled up inside him each time he was forced to try again.

The rest of the gang looked at them blankly.

"Aly- the reinforcements," Winston said authoritatively, his tone changing to cop mode.

With that, Aly was also all business, whipping out a manila envelope and pulling out Exhibit A- the sonogram photo.

Jess and Cece both immediately softened, small cheers escaping their mouths as they hopped up to surround Aly and coo over the photo. Schmidt moved closer as well, but maintained a few feet worth of distance.

"They do sell those things on the black market y'know!" He protested slightly, but his tone changed nearly immediately and he approached Winston, pulling him into a hug.

"Congrats, man, didn't know you had it in ya."

"What? The skills to make a baby?" Winston pulled back, slightly incredulous.

"No, the resolve to not just have a prank baby," Schmidt shook his head, then stepped over to congratulate Aly.

"At least now we know all that raucous lovemaking had a purpose," Jess rolls her eyes, looking up from the sonogram.

"Damn right it did!" Winston pumps his first proudly. "That ish wasn't just raucous lovemaking, it was raucous babymaking!"

They all groan but Aly follows hers with a small smile of pride and affection, locking eyes with Winston as their friends continue poring over the barely-there photo of their eventually-human-looking baby.

* * *

The first time Cece publicly feels her envy is when they go to the bar to celebrate a few hours afterwards. She could've sworn up and down she'd be the first to be pregnant- after all, she and Schmidt just got  _married_ , for Christ's sake.

But then they're all 'cheers'-ing and Jess slips her an additional shot on the sly because thanks to their overwhelmingly empathetic best friend connection she could sense Cece's slight unease the moment the news came out and suddenly she's glad she's allowed alcohol during a time like this and reminds herself that it's not a competition. She also acknowledges that yes, Winston and Aly do truly love each other (besides Winston's pesky other marriage) and, even bigger yes, it is so completely par for the course of their gang for Winston to get fake married then real pregnant with a completely different woman, rather than the two who just got married or- let's face it- the two stubborn ones who are destined to get married eventually.

* * *

The first time Jess calls him since he's been gone is a few days after Winston and Aly's news. They've texted here and there, mainly random thoughts and jokes peppered with a few non-committal "miss you"s and "hope everything's great!"s. Then again he's only been gone for a little under a month. But a call is different.

It's 2am here and 4am there, and regardless of the time difference she knows there's no way he's awake. But still, she dials and he picks up after two rings. But she doesn't say anything. Big news has hit their crew and normally the two of them would talk about it. It feels wrong not to. But she doesn't really know what to say, so she just sits there while he calls her name and says hello a few times, telling her that he knows she's there. Sighing and disappointed with herself, not to mention a bit embarrassed, she hangs up soon after.

It takes him an excruciating two minutes to return the call, which she answers immediately, finally ready to talk.

"Hey," she says breezily.

"Hey," his voice is gruff, a little quiet, and Jess is assuming that's because Reagan is asleep not too far away.

"Sorry if I woke you," she apologizes quietly.

"Nah, couldn't really sleep." Jess can imagine him shrugging.

"Crazy, huh? The loft's first baby," she chuckles.

Nick laughs, too. "I can't believe, of all of us."

"I  _KNOW_ ," Jess squeals, and suddenly the conversation slips back into a comfortable groove. "I mean, lapping the newlyweds, that's just poor etiquette."

"Y'know, when he told me at first, I thought it was a prank."

"Nick, trust me- Winston tried to tell us  _ten times_ ," Jess explains. "It wasn't until we got the real photo evidence that we believed."

"I mean, they do sell those things on Craigslist. And used pregnancy tests," Nick jokes.

Jess rolls her eyes. "Schmidt said the same thing."

"I could literally  _feel_ you rolling your eyes through the phone, Jess," he chuckles.

A blush creeps up her cheeks. "Guilty."

A few seconds of comfortable silence pass.

"So how is it over there?" Jess isn't sure if she's referring to New Orleans or Reagan or the weather or anything else.

"Well, right now- dark," he deadpans. "But good. I'm having a good time. Feeling a little off the grid."

A sharp momentary pain shoots through Jess's chest, but she quickly recovers, laughing slightly. "You're in a densely populated modern city, not backpacking in the Himalayas."

"Anything that's not Los Angeles or Chicago feels like another planet. Hell, even the Whole Foods down the block from the loft…but that's probably because Winston got banned," Nick admits. "But really, you have to see this place- it's awesome. I think you'd like it. You should visit."

A weak "umm, maybe" is all she has to offer before a momentary silence falls between them once more, this time more awkward than the last.

"Nick do you ever…think about having kids?" She asks a little shakily, fully acknowledging the potential weirdness that could ensue.

"I don't really- …I mean, yeah. Realistically I don't even think about tomorrow's breakfast, but yeah I think I do…want kids, I mean," he sighs.

"Yeah," Jess says quietly, not having any follow-up to that question. "Well, I should go to bed. It's parents' day tomorrow which means Feelings Farm 2.0."

"Yeesh. Good luck," Nick grimaces, but laughs weakly, still reeling over her previous question.

"Um, 'night, Nick," Jess smiles slightly.

"Goodnight, Jess."

They both hang up their phones with a deep exhale, wondering how they'd ended up in this mess. Well Jess knew exactly how. Cece brings it up once in a while, but often shies away from the subject, trying to protect Jess's feelings. Just as Jess knows about Cece's jealousy over the Winston and Aly pregnancy, Cece is well aware of nearly just how much of Jess's day and brain is already dedicated to a certain traveling roommate (and she's not talking about Coach). It's second nature for them both.

* * *

The first time Winston gets to Skype with Rhonda about the pregnancy, Aly's next to him as always. Rhonda, too, initially replies with a "Damn, that's a good one," until she realizes that it's actually not a prank and he's actually going to have a baby. In true Winston fashion, they've been having these Skype sessions since about a week after he and Aly got together, first explaining the situation and, after Rhonda's approval and congratulations, giving each other weekly updates on their lives. Aly finds it more or less exhausting, yet every time she ends up marveling over how she got so damn lucky, somehow. Rhonda insists on retelling her marriage prank with Winston and explaining in painstaking detail how he "got Rhonda'd" while laughing boisterously, though it's a story that Aly's heard about…thirty times by now. She then turns her excitement back to their bun in the oven.

"I can not wait to be that little guy or girl's godmother!" She gushes, while Winston and Aly both glance at one another with slight panic in their eyes, though still trying to play along.

They eventually both have to go, and once the screen goes black, Aly pats her stomach and promises their growing baby that that would never happen. Winston agrees, leaning over and kissing Aly while laying a hand on her abdomen, but then swiftly is off in his own world, musing about what'll be "Baby's First Prank."

* * *

The first time Cece and Schmidt really talk about it is in the loft about a week after the news breaks and the initial shock has worn off- or so they think. The pair is casually grocery shopping and next thing they know all they can see are cinnamon buns and hamburger buns and ciabatta buns. They turn to each other with matching horrified looks as if on cue.

"We gotta get the  _hell_  outta here," Cece declares.

With that, they abandon their cart and bolt out of the store.

"I don't even know how that  _happened_!" Schmidt remarks as they're still running. "I can't even remember the last time I ate a carb!"

They're slightly out of breath when they get back to the car and drive in silence to the loft, Cece just staring out the window.

Their rush to get back upstairs is still frenzied and upon realizing nobody else is home, she just plops on the couch, face-first.

"Tequila," They both agree simultaneously, Cece's response slightly muffled by the couch cushion.

Schmidt soon joins her on the couch and suddenly they're passing the bottle back and forth taking swigs. This happens three times before they finally slow down and decide to actually emote.

"I didn't think it was gonna hit me like that," she admits, a little abashedly.

"I think I've just been trying to distract myself with work and nearly anything else," Schmidt shakes his head.

"It's not that I'm not happy for them, y'know- I am. I mean, it's Winston and Aly, for Christ's sake. How can you  _not_  be?" Cece sighs. "But then again, we're the ones who just got married."

"Girl," he says in his way that's only really affectionate between the two of them, for nostalgia's sake. "Trust me, I know. I mean I'm the one who's spreading the Schmidt seed after all."

Cece chooses to ignore the somewhat douchiness of that statement by taking another swig.

"But think about it this way- if we were having a baby right now, you would not be able to do this," Schmidt reasons by taking the bottle from her and taking his own drink from it.

"Y'know, not the first time that point has been made to me," she laughs.

"I guess the real thing I'm trying to say is- there was a point in my life when I wasn't even sure if I'd ever get you back, and now that I did, forever-  _never mind_   _those pesky divorce rates_ \- I'm not in any rush. When we finally do have a baby it's gonna be the happiest day of my life solely because it's with you, regardless of the timing."

Cece feels her eyes welling up as she throws her arms around Schmidt's neck and kisses him tenderly. They spend the rest of the afternoon brainstorming baby names and drinking tequila. Needless to say, Jess, Winston and Aly are all confused to come home and find them sleeping- and snoring- on the couch in a heap later that evening.

* * *

The first time Jess walks in on Cece facetiming Reagan is a random Saturday when she's back early from running errands. The realization hits her with a dull pain she can't quite put her finger on and Cece turns around, startled for a second like a child who's been caught.

There's a pain in her eyes but she quickly brushes it off, calling out an "Oh sorry!" and rushing to her room.

She sits on her bed and chides herself for being silly. She also supposes she should've said hello. She can hear Cece's voice rising a bit with a pinch of annoyance as she says "Well it's not like we all don't know what's going to happen, anyway- everyone knows how and where he's meant to end up by now!"

A few moments later Cece opens her door a crack, furtively sticking her head in until the rest of her body follows. She perches on the edge of Jess's bed tentatively.

"Hey. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" she begins.

"No, Ceec, don't be crazy. This isn't a  _contest_ ," Jess rolls her eyes.

"I know, but I mean I know you're hurt. I know you tried to do what you thought was right and that Nick made a big boy choice but also Reagan played a part in it, obviously," Cece responds apologetically, patting Jess on the knee.

"Honestly- I'm fine. It's fine," Jess insists.

"Ya sure? Because your eyes are doing that crazy thing..." Cece is clearly not convinced.

"What crazy thing?!"

"Oh, just the thing they do when you're hangry or jealous or ESPECIALLY whenever Nick gets brought up. And they've been in overdrive lately."

"They do not!"

"Whatever you say, sista. So, since I still feel like a bad friend- froyo?" Cece extends a proverbial olive branch.

"You are not a bad friend. But yes."

* * *

The first time Jess hears from Sam since the breakup is in the form of a 'save the date' to his fall wedding with Diane. It comes, somewhat ironically, on the heel of her arrival home after both a bad day at work and a dud date. She just stares at the calligraphied card stock in her hand as she only faintly hears the rants and disparaging remarks about it from Schmidt and Cece.

Suddenly the living room has become the Comedy Central Roast of Dr Sam Sweeney and she escapes the madness, slipping into her room quietly and pulling out her phone. She clicks away at a snarky, passive aggressive and even slightly vitriolic (well, for Jess) response to Sam's invite. She sets the phone down on her desk as the blue line blinks at the end of her text, prompting her to either write more or send. Contemplating for a few minutes, she sighs and deletes the whole thing, then goes back and deletes his entire contact from her phone. She instead opens a new message to Nick, sending nothing but a photo of the save the date in her hand.

Little more than 5 minutes later, her phone rings.

"Seriously?" Nick's voice flatly comes through as he forgoes any type of greeting.

"Yes sir," Jess groans.

"What a dick," he scoffs, and if Jess were an angrier person she'd remark that he wasn't much better right now.

"Tell me about it. Matchmaker extraordinaire, am I right?" She jokes weakly and can practically hear Nick grimace through the phone.

"I'm sorry he did that to ya. I'm trying to come up scenarios in which he'd think that's a good idea and when even  _Nick Miller_  can't create logic behind an idea, you know it's a truly stupid one."

Jess hears a lot of noise behind him that resembles that of a crowded restaurant, remembering their time difference once again, she sighs.

"Nick, you're out at dinner, aren't you?" Despite being secretly elated that he chose to interrupt his dinner plans to take the call, she can't help but feel her teacher pangs of disappointment over his improper manners taking over.

"So?"

_Boys._ "Hang up the phone, enjoy your food, have fun with Reagan."

"But you need me."

The line tugs at her heartstrings and almost keeps her from saying what she says next.

"Only a little bit," she isn't sure why her voice sounds more like a squeaky whisper now. "But I'll still be here later. Don't worry about me."

"Ya know you can't ask me to do that, Jess! But okay, I will go now. But text me!"

"You got it, dude."

They say their semi-awkward goodbyes (why is that part always _SO WEIRD_?) and hang up, Jess suddenly feeling a bit better.

But she still was NOT going to that wedding.

* * *

The first time Nick thinks he might've made a mistake is not long after he boards the plane, to be honest. Reagan's job upgraded her to first class, but didn't account for a companion, so he's making himself comfortable in coach (not to be confused with Coach, the person, who he missed dearly), being thankful for the window seat, but less thankful for the woman next to him with a toddler on her lap.

Nick has never been crazy about flying. And now he's preparing for takeoff with the rest of the cabin and desperately wishes someone was there to grab his shaking hand but it probably wouldn't be acceptable to force it upon his flight neighbor, though she  _isn't_  wearing a wedding or engagement ring. He knows that if Jess was there she'd do it. Hell, she wouldn't have even accepted the first class invite if he couldn't go too. But he's not mad at Reagan, not really.

In need of a distraction, he starts playing some mindless game on his phone that Winston made him download, and even though the crew has told them multiple times to make sure their phones are on airplane mode, his still isn't and a text slips through. He looks around guiltily, hoping that the small "ping!" noise didn't put a target on his back. Nobody seems to notice or care except the small child to his left. It's from Jess.

_Deep breaths, Miller- you got this! Good luck xo J :-)_

He chuckles at her dumb emoticon usage (why did she always insist on the hyphen nose?), but overall feels his body relax. Next thing he knows, the plane is rising into the air and he hasn't gotten a chance to respond, but suddenly he's wondering just  _how much_  trouble one can get in for opening a window or emergency exit or if it's really like in the movies and all the air will get sucked out. But then the seatbelt sign is off and Reagan's snuck out of first class. Before he can ask her what she's doing she passes his row and subtly nods her head towards the bathroom with a raised eyebrow. He glances back at his phone, feeling conflicted for a second, then sighs, stuffing it in his bag and getting up, leaving a few moments of distance between himself and Reagan to avoid suspicion (everyone still knows anyway).

 


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Jess sees Nick since he left is two months after his departure when Cece and Schmidt convince her to come along with them (plus with Winston and Aly) to visit NOLA. After about a week of dragging her feet on the subject, she finally agrees. She vacillates between childlike excitement and downright moping basically the entire way there, half giddy over the idea of seeing Nick and half lamenting over the concept of being a  _seventh_  wheel.

When their flight lands, just Nick is there to greet them at the airport, since Reagan is at work. Cece, Schmidt, Winston and Aly all part to the side to let Jess through to him first, afterwards all remarking that they weren't sure why they did that (because  _the Reagan thing_ , after all), but that it felt right. Jess' steps stall a bit as she appraises Nick, biting her lip nervously, then letting her bag fall to the wayside as she flings her arms tightly around his neck, nearly knocking him down. After slight surprise, he responds by molding her body around hers. They relent a bit when they're reminded that they have an audience.

Jess backs off as a blush creeps on her cheeks and Cece rubs her back placatingly until it's her own turn to offer Nick a friendly, but knowing, hello. She likes Reagan but she can't help being protective. They spend the remainder of the afternoon getting settled into their hotel room not far from Reagan's place, then heading over there to meet up before dinner plans.

Everything's going swimmingly until Reagan gets home and Jess suddenly feels extremely out of place. She is happy to see Reagan, though she wishes it were under different circumstances, like, perhaps, her goodbye party before moving out of the country for years (or something). They go to dinner and Jess finds it downright painful as everyone is fully coupled up, and after a bit of awkward shuffling around, she's seated at the head of the table with Nick and Cece on either side and their respective partner next to them, with Winston and Aly rounding out the end and sitting across from one another.

The entire meal moves so mind-numbingly slow for Jess and she assumes everyone else in the restaurant is just staring at her and pitying her because somehow  _every single other patron_   _in there_ \- let alone the ones at her table- is so hopelessly perfectly in love so that makes her the  _151st-wheel_  (?), technically. She and Nick keep accidentally bumping hands and Cece keeps giving her knowing glances literally  _every time_  it happens because she's Cece and she also doesn't hesitate to whisper to the waiter to toss an extra shot of tequila into Jess's sangria while slipping him a $20. And the worst part is that Reagan is so blissfully unaware of it all and it makes Jess want to jam the butter knife into her own eye.

* * *

The first time Jess realized she's so completely, unequivocally  _fucked_  is later that night. They transition their dinner drinking into evening drinking and since it's a Thursday, Reagan has work the following morning, but it doesn't stop the other six from divulging in a crazy (well, Aly not so much) night out. Everyone is making their way to Reagan's back patio to continue drinking but Jess lingers inside when Nick pops into a room to change his shirt (he spilled sauce on it at dinner because some things never change). Reagan stalls a bit.

"C'mon, let's give them a sec to talk," Cece says as if it's to be expected with the two (which, it essentially is).

"Huh? Talk about what? Didn't they get closure, or whatever?" Reagan is a little perturbed.

"Oh, honey," Cece says, almost laughing. "Come, we'll join the others outside."

Raising an eyebrow, but ultimately shrugging it off, Reagan allows Cece to lead her out through the French doors with a bottle of wine in hand.

Somewhere down the hall, Jess knocks lightly on Nick's- well, 'Nick and Reagan's,' she supposes with a cringe- door, left slightly ajar. She slips in without waiting for a response and finds him shuffling through his drawer. She feels a sharp pain she can't quite name after seeing him rifling through  _his_  drawer at  _Reagan's_  place.

"Hey there," she waves a little awkwardly.

"Idunno what you're looking for, but this isn't the bathroom!" His joke falls flat- they both know it, and Jess looks genuinely disappointed in him for it.

"O-kay," she purses her lips.

"Yeah, blech, scratch that one," Nick grimaces. "So what brings ya here, Day? I thought you'd be out getting tipsy with the other folk."

"Well, I'll have you know," Jess laughs slightly and points a finger at him. "That I have been tipsy ever since dinner."

"I knew it!" he cried triumphantly. "I mean, ya tried to butter my hand instead of a roll, like, four times."

Jess just rolls her eyes until Nick gets back on topic. "So what's up?"

"Ummmm, nothin,'" suddenly she feels uncharacteristically shy. "Just wanted to say I missed you."

Nick's mouth curls up into a small smile. "I missed you, too."

The comforting heat of his hand on her arm sends an electric jolt aggressive enough to shake her out of whatever nostalgic place she was about to go to.

"Um, hey- let's go get drunk!" She declares shakily, pumping a fist into the air.

Nick hasn't even changed his shirt, but he follows her outside anyway.

They all spend about another hour getting comfortably drunk (minus Reagan and Aly) and head out, Nick offering Reagan a kiss on the mouth on the way out that Schmidt makes a point of distracting Jess from seeing.

Their first bar goes off without a hitch- good times, catching up and laughs all around. It's when Winston and Aly decide to call it a night and the other four opt to switch over to the combination dive bar/club next door that things really go downhill.

One minute they're taking shots, and the next they've migrated to the small dance floor, all dancing in a group, on their own, and taking turns switching partners. Then thanks to lowered inhibitions and about three more  _extra strong_  drinks Nick and Jess are dangerously close, dancing together, whispering jokes into each other's ears and laughing much louder than the jokes ever warranted. Jess likes Reagan, but it's just dancing and she's not about to lie and say that Nick doesn't look, like, a little bit hot in his t-shirt- also  _extremely_  sweaty, but whatever- since he decided to ditch the flannel for one night. And since when does he know how to dance? (He doesn't, but Jess is just drunk enough that it seems like it). And more importantly, since when does he think her 1920s gangster impression is funny? She becomes acutely aware of their proximity a few times, but brushes it off, choosing instead to relish in it and also mentally note the cold shower she'll  _definitely_  need later.

Suddenly Schmidt and Cece are on either side of her and drag her away to a corner where the music isn't as loud and Nick's hands aren't on her hips and dangerously close to just comfortably slipping into her pockets.

"Jessica Day!" They scold in a creepy unison, taking a second to look at each other in horror.

"Ssup guys?" Jess slurs slightly, a little mad for their interruption but overall unfazed.

"Jess- what is that? What are you doing out there? You two are dancing like a bunch of middle schoolers on speed at Sadie Hawkins!" Schmidt cries. "Not to mention there's not even a DJ anymore- it transitioned to karaoke! Did you oafs even notice?! Did you?! He even dabbled in Streisand!"

"Oh, Schmidtty, relax!" She throws her head back in casual laughter and it nearly knocks her off balance. "Besides, I saw you and Nick grinding butts out there tons of times!"

He huffs. "Grinding butts?! It was back-to-back, Jessica, and we were bro-dancing."

Cece rolls her eyes. "Alright, tiny dancer, I'll take it from here."

"Cecelia, my wife, whom I love more than all my fine leather combined- all I ask is that you never use an Elton John reference against me again," he almost looks genuinely hurt.

"Noted. Now goodbye!" She kisses him and sends him on his way, turning back to her friend. "Talk to me Jess, what is this? And don't say ' _just dancing_ ,' I haven't seen dancing like that since I was hired underage as an extra in a clubbing scene."

"Ceec, you know exactly what it is. I guess I just can't stay away," Jess sighs exasperatedly, then her somber tone changes with a small laugh. "Plus I'm  _preeeetty_  drunk."

"Babe," is all Cece can really respond, opting instead to pull Jess tightly to her bosom.

* * *

The first time Reagan catches on to what she thought was only imagined or harmless suspicion is that Friday night. Drunk Nick stumbles into bed pretty late after the gang's evening out, and his bumbling around only faintly registers on Reagan's radar since she sleeps like a rock. The only change she really notices is the eventual feeling of slight warmth next to her. When she wakes up in the morning she finally catches sight of Nick- still in last night's clothes- sleeping above the covers, drool out in full force. Sighing as a small laugh bubbles up in the back of her throat, she decides against waking him, gets ready and leaves for work.

After her work day is over, they opt against eating out as Reagan insists on cooking them pasta.

"Wait, babe, you dragged them  _where_?" She laughs incredulously once Cece recounts their previous night (omitting a few details, obviously- though Jess doesn't have to hide her blush any less).

"Hey I warned 'em- nothin' fancy. But I like those bars!" He shrugs in response.

"Alright, here's the deal. Tonight, we're going out again, but this time it's my pick. This is a vacation for you guys and I want you to have fun!" Reagan's eyes light up.

Cece shrugs. "Sounds good to me. Show us what ya got."

The rest of them agree, aside from Winston and Aly who decide to opt into more mellow plans.

"So it's settled- let's drink a little bit more, get ready and then I'll take you guys to my favorite club. It's gonna be great."

Jess nearly spits out her wine at the mention of a "club"- she certainly did not up for that when she agreed to this- but Reagan's obviously excited, and trying, so she chokes it back and starts mentally preparing.

After dinner, the five of them head back to the hotel to begin their preparations. Jess starts rifling through her suitcase when she feels a hand on her back.

"Not so fast, babe. I've got a better idea for ya," Cece winks and pulls a slinky dress from behind her back- it's royal blue with a fitted bodice featuring a deep v-neck and short, loose flowing A-line skirt.

"Ceec!" Jess scolds. "That is too much! And also, why'd you even bring that, married woman?"

"C'mon, it'll look AMAZING on you. And hey, just because I'm married doesn't mean I don't still wanna look hot for my husband."

"This is true, but thanks to the loft and its notoriously paper-thin walls, I happen to have the misfortune of knowing that Schmidt thinks you look hottest in his  _'oriental-inspired, non-racist kimono'_ ," Jess uses finger quotes to accentuate Schmidt's terminology with a grimace on her face.

"Ya got that right!" Schmidt can be heard confirming from the bathroom with what sounds like a mouthful of toothpaste.

Cece rolls her eyes. "You'll look amazing. Plus, you're single, on a ridiculously dry spell and we're in New Orleans."

Jess considers fighting her 'dry spell' comment, but instead just huffs. "Fine. But if it's too much thigh I'm changing!"

Of course, Cece is right, and Jess looks amazing. Despite her best friend's insistence, Jess withholds her desire to keep her hair simple and makeup neutral, though it doesn't detract from how good she looks regardless.

Once they're ready and pregamed, they head down to the lobby where Winston and Aly are already waiting. It's a short drive to the club and the tipsy trio feels a bit like they're being dropped off by their parents, offering quick parting responses as Schmidt just straight up pretends Winston is an Uber driver so as to maintain his "cred."

The club is crowded and sweaty already, and Jess mentally curses for wearing her nicer 'going out'" flats as her feet are being shuffled around and stepped on by random passersby. After checking his phone and craning his neck, Schmidt finally spots Nick and Reagan. Reagan can barely walk a foot without bumping into someone she knows while Nick is following awkwardly with a drink in his hand. They consider things like this one of their relationship compromises.

The night goes off relatively without a hitch, the couples are being- well-  _couple-y_  and the drunker Cece gets the less subtle she is with trying to set Jess up with guys, especially making sure Nick can see. The third guy Cece sends Jess's way is Marcus, and despite his dorky name, they actually hit it off. After they retreat to the dance floor, they progressively get closer and closer, with Jess peppering in a few of her signature oddball moves and him surprisingly not being turned off by them.

"You're adorable, you know that?" Marcus laughs once he's turned her around and they're face to face.

It's not even a whole minute later that Jess is crushing her mouth over his and he's quickly catching up to match her enthusiasm. Though almost as quickly as it begins, it's over and Jess is now struck with panic and confusion-  _why did she do that? What is she doing?_

Offering a quick "sorry, goodbye, see you later maybe" to Marcus, she skitters over to Cece who greets her with a low whistle.

"Proud of you, tiger!" She laughs. "But what are you doing over here?"

"I'm gonna go, Ceec," Jess sighs.

Reagan, Nick and Schmidt, who all  _definitely_  saw them, are now tuned into this exchange.

"Go? Why?" Schmidt asks with surprisingly genuine concern.

"Yeah, you seemed like you were having a great time," Reagan smirks, and Jess can't be mad at her because she really just has no clue about her near-constant internal debate.

"I just….really need to. I'll get a cab. Sorry guys I'm suddenly not feeling up to this! I gotta go, uh, make sure the cat-sitter fed Ferguson!"

She's never been more thankful for being in close proximity of a club's exit before.

"Oh well I'll go with you!" Nick follows her instinctively, not even realizing what he's doing.

Cece purses her lips with the pained curiosity of a person watching a car wreck while Schmidt groans quietly and squeezes the bridge of his nose.

"Why?" Reagan asks in confusion.

"I uh…I….Idunno," he admits, shrugging and turning back lamely.

Sighing, Reagan glances between the two for a brief moment, thankfully unnoticed by anyone else, and realizes she must've been dumb to think things were completely over between them. She opts to take another shot instead of bringing it up.

* * *

The first time Nick walks back into the loft is approximately four painstaking (well, if you're asking Jess) months since his initial departure. He was only supposed to be gone for three. Three.  _Not that Jess was counting_. Wanting to surprise her (why? He wasn't sure exactly), he has Schmidt pick him up from his red-eye, which he soon regrets once Schmidt has his head pinned to his man-bosom and plants a big one atop his head before letting him get in the car.

Jess is sleeping. He considers waking her up, making it as far as standing outside her door for a few minutes (warranting a scoff and "Creep!" comment from Schmidt), but relents, opting to collapse onto his own bed. The room seems...neater?

* * *

The first time Jess sees him again since their awkward goodbye at the airport is the following morning. She's minding her own business, going about her morning routine set to the sound of bacon sizzling in the kitchen. She passes the scene three whole times before she can catch that something is different about it- it's not Winston or Schmidt cooking breakfast (psht, Schmidt would  _never_  eat bacon, not even when he was going paleo). Screaming, she drops her bottle of women's multivitamins, sending them everywhere.

Elsewhere in the loft, Cece and Schmidt share a smile and knowing glance.

"You!" Is all Jess can muster, staring at Nick as though he's a recently unmasked Scooby Doo villain rather than her ex-boyfriend-loftmate- _personshewasmaybekindofstilltotallyinlovewith-_ best-friend.

"Me!" he laughs incredulously, but keeps his distance, regarding Jess cautiously like a released zoo animal.

She softens, slowly glancing between Nick and the scattered vitamins across the floor in a daze. "What are you- I thought-"

"Yep, I'm back!"

"I can see that...but what happened to being gone for only three months?" She decides she doesn't want to let him off so easily.

Nick sighs. "We have a lot to discuss."

"Clearly." Her face is unreadable, but she eventually softens again, tentatively closing the space between them and wrapping him in a hug.

Nick remains silent, afraid to say the wrong thing and stick a knife through the moment.

"Welcome back, you clown." Nick can feel her smirking behind his back. "Now help me pick up these damn pills."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a side note, for anyone confused on timeline, there are 2 months between when the loftmates visited and Nick came back home. Also I chose not to mention anything that happened in between the ~weirdness~ and his return since I plan to address some of it in future pieces. Review if you feel so inclined, I'd definitely appreciate it! Even if not, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time warning- the first drabble of this chapter is a little out of place, but will make sense upon reading it (I hope?) lol.

The first time Schmidt genuinely wholeheartedly encourages a Nick and Jess reunion with no ulterior, self-serving motives ( _crazy_ , right?) is on the car ride from the airport. Nick is engrossed in the radio, flipping through the channels and remarking how he hasn't heard that station in four months- for every single station. Because he was on the opposite side of the country. Schmidt's grip on the steering wheel tightens with every "hey I haven't heard this in  _months_!"

"OKAYGIMMETHEAUXCORD," Schmidt shrieks, unable to take it anymore as he stabs the cord into the waiting aux port and plugs the other end into his phone and before they know it, some weird Spotify playlist is buzzing through the speakers.

Calmer now, Schmidt lightly places the phone into a cupholder and turns his head toward Nick slowly, an almost unsettlingly sweet smile on his face.

"Anyway. Now. Honeymoon period of this drive is over. Explain yourself, Nicholas." He spits his name out particularly  _Schmidt-like_ , though there's no vitriol in his tone.

"Huh?" Nick feigns stupidity for a minute. Did he mention his internal clock is all fucked up? ( _"Nick, you've literally never had any semblance of an internal clock"_  is all Schmidt says when he drops the line the first time).

"Oh, yanno, What brings you back to the good 'ol Golden State? Trouble in paradise? Do  _you_  have to check on Ferguson, too?" He recalls Jess's oddball and zero percent believable excuse for leaving the club in New Orleans.

"Ack, c'mon, Schmidt."

"Listen, as your best friend, the groom to your best man, I feel like there are just some things we need to be open about. Plus, y'know, we're bros. I'm the one who's gotta be all  _'don't ask'_  when Cece wants to ask. Let me be that guy for you, Nick." Sdchmidt sounds disturbingly sincere.

Sighing, Nick rubs his hands on the legs of his pants- why are they sweaty all of a sudden?

"It was after you guys left. Idunno if Cece said something or there's just some bizarre witch-like mind communication going on there-  _seriously, you gotta talk to your wife about that, man_ \- but either way, Reagan basically cornered me and told me she could tell there was something still there between me and Jess and that she wanted no part of it. Also I was a damn sad sack seeing you guys leave."

"Jess and I," Schmidt absentmindedly corrects Nick's grammar in a far too Jess-like way that, if he's being honest, slightly horrifies him.

"Dude, if you're gonna tell me you and Jess hooked up, now is really not the time. You said you wanted my story so now I'm givin' you the story!" Nick rolls his eyes.

"No I was just-" Schmidt groans. "Ugh, just continue, you oaf."

"She said after that night at the club she could tell things were a little...off. And she said it even seemed a little weird the day after our bar crawl, too. Crazy, right?"

"Honestly Nick, no, not crazy at all. The two of you were literally grinding. I saw it, I saw  _all_  of it- the good, the bad and the ugly. You two even sexualized square-dancing," Schmidt recounts somberly. "Plus you drunkenly offered to take her home from a club  _in front of your girlfriend_. I mean, Freudian slip or what,  _am I right_? So what I'm saying is that no, there's genuinely not a surprised bone in my body that Reagan jumped to that  _correct_  conclusion."

Nick squirms in his seat uncomfortably, but eventually shrugs. "I'm an  _idiot_. I'm still completely crazy about Jess, man. And apparently terrible at hiding it."

"Yeah, well, I could've told you that without either of us having to go all the way to New Orleans,  _bro_."

"Right," Nick huffs. "Anyway, so I did the logical thing- stayed for a whole month longer than I ever said I was going to, with zero warning, to ensure Jess will wanna knock my teeth out when I walk in the door."

"Well, it could be worse- you could've resorted to getting blindingly drunk as usual."

Nick scoffs. "What? Of course I did that, too. That was  _literally_  the first thing I did. I thought I called Jess like, seven times, turns out it was an old Uber driver. I don't even  _have_  Uber on my phone."

Schmidt squeezes the bridge of his nose. "Nick, please, for the love of God, yourself, and the rest of us, please fix this. As much as it pains me to finally admit, you and Jess-  _and I'm not just saying this because Cece is my wife-_ belong together. Honestly, can you really tell me you see yourself with somebody else? Not to mention your clock is really ticking."

Finally they're back in the parking deck of the loft.

"Takes two to tango," Nick shrugs as a poorly-executed parting line, leaving Schmidt behind in the car.

"You idiot!" He calls after Nick's retreating figure.

* * *

The first time Winston burns a crepe- literally  _ever_ \- is when he, too, realizes Nick is back.

Aly is sitting at the table expectantly (no pregnancy pun intended) when Nick comes strolling out like it's nothing and suddenly it's like Winston is seeing a ghost.

"Nick Miller in the flesh, lookin' fresh," he remarks in surprise, abandoning his pan and crossing the room to throw his arms around him.

"It's me, buddy. Hey Aly," Nick adds while Aly is already mid-dry laugh at Winston's greeting.

Winston is still holding onto him despite Nick's arms now being slack at his sides.

"Winnie- the crepes," Aly protests quietly- holding her hand up slightly like when you know the answer in elementary school but have also answered the last three and don't want to hurt your playground cred- trying not to ruin the moment but also starving.

"What brings ya back? Reagan never even mentioned it while Aly and I were Skyping with her!" Aly nods in confirmation.

Nick just shakes his head incredulously. "Ya gotta stop Skyping with her, man. What did I tell you about that?"

"Oh yeah, I know- she already told me y'all broke up," Winston shrugs as though it's the most casual scenario in the world. Nick suspects that even Rhonda knows he and Reagan broke up now. Aly's guilty face tells him he's right.

"Um, yeah." Nick rubs a hand over his face, which sports a look of exasperation and slight distress.

No thanks to Aly's not so subtle attempts to get his attention, Winston finally turns back toward the crepe pan to find them charred.

"Aw man, not the crepes!" He cries with a tone not unlike Schmidt's.

Across the kitchen, Aly's now stabbing a fork into the table, practically growling through gritted teeth.

Nick takes this as his cue to escape.

"Glad you're back Nick!" Aly calls to him as an afterthought, hoping her voice carries over Winston's clanging pots and pans.

* * *

The first time Reagan is mentioned between the two of them is a few days later. Nick and Jess are standing next to one another brushing their teeth when he blurts it out.

"Reagan and I broke up!" The words- and a significant amount of toothpaste foam- fall out of his mouth like word vomit.

Jess just rinses out her mouth, smiles tightly, offers a quiet "Ooookay then" and leaves to head to work.

Schmidt follows, replacing Jess's now-abandoned spot at the sink.

"Hey, ya done with this?" he asks casually, reaching for the tube of toothpaste in Nick's hand.

Nick just nods, prompting Schmidt to grab the tube and smack him over the head with it.

"You imbecile," he groans with an eye roll, motioning between Nick and the doorway that Jess just exited through.

* * *

The first time Cece approaches the  _awkward baby subject_  with Winston other than in an "OMGIMSOHAPPYFORYOU" way is literally this long after the initial news broke. The rest of the loft comes home to a peculiar sight one evening as Cece is shotgunning a beer on bended knee while Winston stands on the newly-purchased  _chaise maternity lounge_  shouting gibberish at the top of his lungs.

"Cecelia!" Schmidt calls out in alarm.

"Aw man, Winston's feet on my video game chair?" Nick groans, tossing his hands up in exasperation.

"Video game chair?" Aly crosses her arms, turning slowly toward him with narrowed eyes.

"Nick...I think I left something in the car," Jess tries to give him an out, slipping her keys into his hand- he graciously accepts and is in the elevator within seconds.

"Oh, hey beb," Cece greets airily, wiping wayward beer off her face.

"Aly, my love, I love you, and I know you hate my feet, but I can  _not_  get off this lounge right now," Winston reasons.

"What is going on?" Jess finally asks in amusement and exasperation.

"True American," Cece, who's began running short laps around the dining room table, huffs during her jog. "Man, I am  _not_  in shape."

"And..." Schmidt's eyebrows still haven't descended back to their normal spot on his forehead.

"It's a competition on who has to move out!" She blurts.

"Explain," Jess interjects.

Sighing, Winston elaborates. "Cecelia here can't stand Aly's hot pregnanticity-"

"Not true!" Cece objects, still jogging. "But yes, you are hot."

"And, being that she and dear Schmidtty here are married and Aly and I are  _with child_ ," Winston continues, ignoring Cece's commentary as well as every other person's grimace over his use of 'with child.' "We've decided on an adult game of True American to decide who stays in the loft and who goes."

Fast-forward 10 minutes and both Aly (sans alcohol) and Schmidt (very  _not_  sans alcohol) have joined in, even more aggressively than their partners, while Jess has taken to refereeing.

* * *

The first time Aly and Winston soberly discuss moving out is the next day. Winston is nursing a nasty hangover while Aly's been puking her guts out since sunrise, so needless so say, neither is in a fantastic mood.

"So I know we  _won_  but..." Aly leads in.

"Yeah," Winston sighs. "But then again it was a little rigged because of our little  _on-the-wagon dragon_  ya got in there."

Aly rolls her eyes as Winston accentuates his nickname with a pat on her stomach.

"Look, I love all these guys, I'm so glad they've accepted me as part of your  _extremely_  weird and borderline homoerotic family," Aly smiles tenderly. "But this loft...is no place to raise a child. Like, none whatsoever."

"Hey, I raised Ferguson here no problem!" Winston replies defensively, but immediately softens. "But yeah, you're right."

"Winston, Ferguson has gone missing here, like, at least 40 times since I've known you," she chuckles.

"Fair," he shrugs.

"Also, I mean, Schmidt and Cece  _did_  get married, literally like right over there," Aly gestures to the spot where the couple read their vows.

"True. And I really don't think Schmidt could be that far apart from Nick just yet. Shit could get  _ugly_." Winston nods solemnly.

"So, I guess that settles it," Aly offers a tiny smile and reaches for her laptop to begin the search.

"Looks like we're going on House Hunters!" Winston interjects, grabbing the computer and punching in the website address to apply.

Sighing, Aly laughs. "I meant we could look online, but, yeah, I guess we're going on House Hunters."

* * *

The first time Cece discusses the other elephant in the room (or better yet, that ubiquitous elephant spanning between both New Orleans and Los Angeles on a conceptual level) is right after Schmidt leaves to pick that elephant up. Actually, to give him some credit, Nick  _has_  been looking more svelte lately. And by lately she means since she last saw him, which was two months ago, so he could technically be the size of an elephant now, who actually knows. But she's sure Schmidt will text her about it ASAP if that's the case.

"Yo," Reagan greets in her typical airy fashion.

"Hey," Cece decides to cut to the chase. "So what gives, sista?"

Sighing, she figures she should cut the bullshit, too. Also isn't it super late in Los Angeles?

"I mean it happened right after y'all left."

"'Y'all'? Girl, not that it doesn't look good on you, but you have  _got_  to get out of the south. Seriously, you'd be successful anywhere." Cece laughs. "But anyway- continue."

"Well after you said all those things outside the club while Schmidt and Nick were off peeing behind a dumpster or making out or both, about how Nick and Jess would never be over I realized that it was the truth. He wasn't totally happy, especially not after seeing you guys. And  _especially_  not after seeing Jess in that dress. Like, damn. But anyway- it was like making your small child walk down the ice cream aisle but not letting him get anything."

"Honestly...that's literally the most accurate way to describe Nick Miller that I've ever heard," Cece muses while playing with the hem of Schmidt's (self-proclaimed) non-racist kimono that she's wearing in his absence. "But I'm sorry you felt that way, I guess."

Reagan laughs. "You're  _so_ not."

"Yeah, you're right. But you also know that  _I'm_  right," Cece laughs in return.

"I mean, yeah, once you clued me into it it was like- how had I never noticed before?! One day I came home from work and caught him  _baking_ \- the cupcakes were terrible, by the way- and once when we were out shopping he considered buying himself a polka-dot shirt."

"I  _wanna_  say the shirt could've very well Schmidt's influence, but I've read his style timeline and it's true, he hasn't touched a polka dot since '09," she nods, pursing her lips.

" _Style timeline_?" Reagan derails the conversation a bit and as much as her brain is screaming "no," she can't help but ask.

"Oh yeah," Cece shrugs as though she's talking about the weather. "Schmidt's been keeping en extension of his baby book, which includes his style evolution. Weird in theory but I've gotta admit, kinda hot when he roleplays 1999-"

"Alright! Got it!" Reagan interrupts that disturbing train of thought. "It's cool, though. In a weird way I guess I can see that they're meant for each other. So I told him that a few days after you guys left, he responded as you'd expect- all fumbling through words and gaping like a Magikarp. But eventually he learned how to form sentences and we ended things on good terms."

"So what was with him staying the extra month if you guys weren't even boning?"

Reagan laughs. "Oh, that? I just needed some extra help on my rent that month, since obviously I didn't end up coming back to LA- got a job extension and needed to renew my lease- plus Nick being Nick, hadn't saved up enough for his flight just yet. A few paychecks later and all was resolved."

"Well, you'll find somebody smokin' hot, Reag. Honestly, do not worry about that. And for the sake of my sanity in this loft, I thank you so, so much for your contribution to ' _Hashtag Get Nick and Jess Back Together 2k16_ '- Schmidt's title for it, not mine."

"Don't mention it- honestly, don't. But yeah, in a weird way, it felt...right, giving up my boyfriend for the greater good."

"That's the spirit!" Cece smiles. "Anyway, I gotta go- who knows when those clowns will be back here."

"Yeah, I should get to bed soon anyway. Nice to hear from you, though, Ceec. Even if it's on super fucking weird terms- though most things involving you people are."

"We'll be in touch! Bye babe."

"Bye."

* * *

The first time Winston considers living somewhere other than the loft in  _years_  is when he and Aly first step foot in a beautiful bungalow-style house not far off from his current address. It's got everything they need-  _somehow in their price range_ \- and even though they were disqualified from House Hunters (don't ask), Aly's still proud of her ability to play the pregnant card and Winston still wants to kiss their realtor smack on the mouth. But he won't, because his hormonal pregnant girlfriend may consider homicide, even though their realtor is a male.

"Thoughts?" The realtor, Jim, turns to them both with a wide, expectant smile.

"It's...beautiful," she's on the verge of tears and so is Winston, but she can blame it on hormones and he can't, so they both try to keep it together.

"So what are you saying, Aly? Are you saying yes?" Winston has his hands clasped in excitement.

Aly laughs and it breaks her out of her weepiness. "You're getting your reality shows confused- that's Say Yes to the Dress."

"So does that mean you're saying it- you're saying yes?!"

"Of course I'm saying yes," she rolls her eyes but is gushing as he picks her up and spins her around until she cautions with a  _"Pregnant women don't appreciate the spins, babe."_

"Woo! In your face, House Hunters!" Winston pumps his fist, then, back to business, turns to the realtor. "So, yes, we will be taking this one."

Jim takes both of them to the kitchen table where they fill out paper work and he assures them that they'll have a confirmation on the acceptance of their offer within a few business days.

The entire ride home, Winston and Aly muse over potential decor and Aly vetoes his suggestion of a "family prank think tank" area ( _"Winston, it's not a_  literal  _tank"_ ), but she's all for adding that tub that never happened in the loft.

* * *

The first time Nick and Jess discuss Reagan sans mouths filled with toothpaste happens about a week later on the tail end of a stressful-ass work week for Jess. Pre-Nick-is-back-Nick-is-back- _NICK-IS-BACK_  era, she'd been casually seeing this guy- a new teacher from her old school she'd been introduced to during a routine lunch reunion with old coworkers- on the weekends for the past three weeks. She'd also  _maybe_  sexted Marcus once, but it was weird. But for some reason, this Friday she told Steven she'd be passing on their usual plans.

Settling in with a bottle of pink wine, she sinks into the couch and basks in silence before flipping on the TV.

"Hey Jess," Nick greets casually, cracking open a beer and flopping onto the couch opposite her.

"Oh, hey!" She smiles brightly, surprised by the intrusion but unashamedly delighted.

"What's up, how's your day, Day?" He laughs at his own joke.

"Terrible, actually," she laughs. "You? It's a Friday night and you're not working?"

"Yep- new bartender at the bar. I've been trainin' him for a few days but decided to throw him to the wolves tonight. Cool, huh?" He muses.

Jess quirks a brow, looking amused. "Um, sure, Nick. Hope he has you on speed dial."

"He does...phone's dead, though," he shrugs, not understanding the correlation and clearly not bothered by it. "What're ya watching?"

Jess turns her attention to the TV for the first time since she mindlessly turned it on and drops the remote on the cushion beside her.

"Literally nothing, to be honest. I was about to see if there was a new Lifetime movie on, but I think that's only Saturdays...I'm not usually here on Fridays," she wonders if saying that was a risk. But whatever, she's Jessica Damn Day, Independent Woman™.

"Guess NOLA rubbed off on ya," Nick laughs, inciting a blush from Jess though she doesn't think he has any idea why.

Not to mention the clear unnecessary pun about Marcus...rubbing...poorly executed sexting, you get the gist.

"I  _guesssss_ ," she hopes she doesn't sound too awkward and tries to play along with his joke. "I feel downright elderly being home right now!"

"You do still knit, don't you?" Nick feigns deep concern. "Who is this New Jess?"

"Yes, I still knit. And it hasn't been  _that_  long, Nick. Just, oh, idunno, a whole  _one month longer than you were supposed to be home_ ," she smirks as she decides to say fuck it and go with that response as opposed to the safer one.

Sheepishly, Nick relents. "So about that talk we're overdue on, huh?"

"Am I gonna need more wine for this?"

"Jess, you have a whole bottle in front of ya."

"Doesn't answer my question," she laughs.

Nick laughs, patting her on a head with a "that's my girl" as he passes to grab a few more beers, and Jess can't help it that she feels her body growing warmer, though she's not sure if it's due more to his words or touch.

After settling back on the couch and both of them looking at each other in silence for a few minutes, Jess can't hold it in any longer.

"Sooo," she takes a sip of wine. "Let's hear it."

"Okay, so we're gonna take it back to after you guys left New Orleans," he takes a deep breath. "You guys left and I was mopey. I'm talkin'  _real_  mopey. I was like a kid who just saw his puppy get hit by a car! I was like Schmidt the first time we told him he drunkenly ate a carb the week leading up to his first date with Cece."

"Wait, he did what?" Jess interjects.

Nick holds up a hand. "Please, no interruptions, Jessica. Anyway- I was a mess. The whole  _'don't know what ya got til it's gone'_ thing. I'm sure I was a pain in the ass to be around, and you know Reagan, she doesn't sugarcoat."

"You can say that again," Jess mutters, only receiving a look from Nick in response. "Sorry, sorry, continue."

"Thank you. So as I was saying- Reagan. She sat me down and basically said she could tell I was miserable without you guys, you in particular," he rushes through that last part. "And she said she thought we'd be better off as friends."

Three minutes of silence pass before Nick speaks again. "Well, anything?"

"Oh! I can talk now?" Jess asks without a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, yes you may speak."

"I mean, yeah, I'm not gonna lie and say that wasn't kind of a weird trip for me, too," Jess admits. "It kinda just made me miss you more."

"Same here," he laughed.

"Wait so what was that part about  _'me in particular_ ' again?" Jess purses her lips in curiosity, cocking her head to the side.

"Ehh, let's not talk about it," Nick mumbles with a laugh. "I'm just happy to be back."

Laughing, they banter back and forth for the remainder of the night and settle on a stupid sci-fi movie of Nick's choosing until they both fall asleep on the couch, Nick's head in Jess's lap.

* * *

The first time Cece and Schmidt talk about eventually moving out is that night when they come home to find Jess and Nick asleep on the couch and share looks of equal amounts disgust and affection.

Retreating to their room, they begin settling into their nightly routine when Cece brings it up.

"So you think once we move out they'll be forced to get their shit together?" She asks flippantly, all  _no big deal_.

"Move out?!" Schmidt chirps in alarm, but turns off the act. "I mean, I'd hope it's before then."

"Look babe, I love being here and I love all you guys, and even though Winston and Aly found a place and there's gonna be more room in here, it's to start their family- you think that maybe we should be following in their footsteps a little bit?"

"Cecelia, I already told you I've been pep-talking my sperm every time before we copulate to make some magic!" Schmidt cries defensively.

Cece offers him a placating hand on his shoulder. "Hey- woah. Not the point I'm making. What I'm saying is this place was never meant to be a family home. It's a bachelor pad...or, well, a  _Bachelor-and-Jess_  pad. I'm happy to live wherever as long as it's with you, but I think it's definitely a next step."

"You're right," he admits. "But what about those two goons?"

Cece rolls her eyes. "Oh, they'll get it together, hopefully sooner than we all think, as long as Aly doesn't murder him for calling her maternity lounge a 'video game chair' again."

"Plus there is no way in hell they can afford this place on their own," Schmidt shakes his head.

"Oh, absolutely not," she purses her lips after choking out a dry laugh. "Maybe that'll be the push they need to either move together or...not?"

"That doesn't even  _sound_  right," Schmidt admits. "It feels like I've been this man's eternal roommate and even I can't comprehend the idea of him and Jess not having the same living quarters."

"Aw, that's a sign of growing up," Cece teases, scrunching up her face.

"Get into bed, woman," he laughs, grabbing her hand playfully until she collapses into the bed next to him, kissing him hard.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me if the idea of a bungalow style house in LA makes no sense (either regionally or within Winston and Aly's price range)- I admittedly know next to nothing about real estate.
> 
> Also, also, excuse my lack of pregnancy knowledge. I realized mid-writing that with my timeline, it's not really usual for couples to even break the news that early in case of complications etc. But for the sake of my story I'll just ask y'all to suspend the slightest bit of reality for me- whatever ya gotta do.


	4. Chapter 4

The first time Jess buys a pregnancy test it's not even for herself. She has to play it super stealthy, like she literally never does, and get it from the store to the loft to Cece without infractions.

_Roadblock Number 1_  occurs when Nick catches her on the way out as she's glancing around nervously, clad in enormous bug-esque sunglasses and a floral chiffon scarf wrapped around her head like some cracked out 50s starlet.

"Where ya headed?" He asks.

And, since Jess can't lie to save her life, especially not to him- "Oh, the drugstore."

"Sweet, mind if I come? Need to pick up some essentials."

"Ummmm, uhhhhhh," Jess is panicking now, and Nick is growing more confused.

"Hello? Jess?" He laughs, snapping in front of her face.

Swatting his hand away and scrunching her face in a look of pure pain and eventual regret, she can't help it. She groans. "Sure. Yes, you can come."

"Sweet, I'll drive" Nick nods.

_Roadblock Number 2_  is when they're actually checking out. Nick insists on paying for her items (she tries to hide her pee stick with a family-size bag of Starburst and pair of Dr. Scholls socks), claiming he's "new money" now (he's not, he just had a better-paying bartending gig in New Orleans than here, not to mention all the boobs he saw. Man, so many boobs).

In a moment of panic, Jess keeps the test behind her back at the last minute, not knowing what else to do. She's then called out for "attempting to shoplift" until she assures them it was a mistake and pays on her own.

The look on Nick's face is a mix of amusement, horror and slight betrayal once she's busted, resulting in an awkward silence all the way back to the car.

"Huh," is all he manages, keeping his eyes straight on the road and pursing his lips.

Jess struggles with the words, opening her mouth with no sound coming out multiple times, before she finally takes a deep breath and releases it, a whole painful 5 minutes later.

" _Nickit'snotmineit'sforCece_ ," she blurts, immediately leaning her head on the dashboard in distress.

He slams the brakes, skidding to a stop. "SCHMIDT MADE A BABY?!"

"Please, pleasepleasePLEASE, do not say anything- Cece can't know I told you, I don't even think Schmidt knows. I mean, it's not even confirmed yet" Jess's face wears a look of pure terror.

"God. Schmidt spawn," Nick shakes his head incredulously.

"I mean, it's technically Schmidt and Cece spawn, which means it'll probably be beautif- WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME TALK ABOUT THIS I'M SWORN TO SECRECY," she curses herself for getting distracted. "And now you're sworn to secrecy, too!"

Nick just laughs. "Whatever you say, captain. To be honest I'm just glad it's not yours."

"Why's that?" Jess's curiosity is suddenly piqued.

Well that definitely shuts him up, and from then on he's silent for the rest of the ride, eyes glued to the road once again.

With thankfully no further disruptions, Jess delivers the contraband to Cece and sits with her for the entire painstaking 60 seconds, squeezing her hand a little too tightly.

* * *

Though she's peed on a stick before, the first time she tells Schmidt about a plus sign is later that night. He's home from work and chastising Nick about immediately falling back into garbage eating habits since returning, when Cece entices him to the bedroom with a green smoothie.

"Have I ever told you that you're my favorite wife?" He plants a sweet kiss lightly on the tip of her nose.

"I like to think so," she rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Ugh, today, what a shit show," he groans, dropping his messenger bag in the corner. "The new receptionist, Joyce, brought her nasty teen in today and he spent all lunch break just  _roasting_ my gingham and pinstripe tie combo."

Cece just stands silently, pretending to listen and wringing her hands.

"I'm sorry, talking about me," he shrugs. "How was your day, babe?"

With that, Cece feels her heart swell about three sizes, as the old Schmidt she used to know may _never_  have stopped talking about himself, especially when he had the chance to verbally humiliate a disrespectful youth. This could work. Yeah, they could do this.

Growing more confident, she speaks. "It was…interesting, to say the least."

"How so?" He punctuates the sentence with a slurp of his liquified kale.

"Um, maybe you wanna sit down for this?" She suddenly feels a bit unsure again.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Schmidt voices his concern, but follows her instructions to sit nonetheless.

"Nothing…it's just…well. Um, you won't believe this, but…" she stammers, then takes a deep breath. "Schmidt, you're- you're going to be a dad."

"I'm what?" His eyes grow wide.

As a reinforcement, Cece reaches toward the table on her side of the bed, taking the used test from her drawer.

Tears spring to Schmidt's eyes as he stares at the pink plus sign in front of him up until the moment that he tosses it aside and grabs Cece tightly, lifting her off the ground.

"So you don't think I bought it off the black market?" She smiles through her tears as he peppers kisses all over her face, remembering the conversation when Winston and Aly made their reveal.

"Screw the black market!" He exclaims, then runs out of their room and all the way up to the roof to yell "Attention Los Angeles- I'm going to be a dad!"

* * *

The first time Winston feels like a real live adult isn't when he gets his job with the LAPD, or when he finds out he impregnated his beautiful girlfriend, but- in true Winston fashion- when he gets the news that he's officially moving out of the loft.

He's sitting at his desk waiting for his day's assignment when he gets the call from Aly. Their offer was accepted and now they're officially new homeowners. It's especially officially official because they even got the seal of approval from Rhonda during a Skype session and subsequent follow-up tour of the house.

He calls the rest of the gang with the news and shoots a text to Reagan consisting of a house, grabby-hands smiley face and trophy emojis.

_'You got a trophy from someone's house? Is this about evidence from that homicide case that reminded you of Clue you were telling me about?'_  is what he gets back.

* * *

The first time Jess grows a pair (okay, maybe not first  _in her lifetime_ ) is the following Friday when she gets her routine Friday text from Steven asking about meeting up later. The crew is at the bar to celebrate Winston and Aly's official new house plus Cece and Schmidt's growing family (why they chose a bar when neither Aly nor Cece can drink, nobody is too sure, but it just felt kind of right), but there's always the option of the boozy booty call on the table.

So she does what any sane woman would do- asks her ex-boyfriend. Who she still has feelings for. Who she's considered everyone she dated or slept with after a rebound. Who fell asleep in her lap last week.

"Give me one good reason not to meet up with this dreamy teacher," Jess challenges, leaning back on the bar once Nick has rounded the corner and joins their small group.

"How dreamy?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Like,  _90s boy band_  dreamy," she confirms.

"Which boy band?" He questions, all business.

"Hm, well, not *NSYNC, but definitely a hard 98 Degrees," she muses, deep in thought about the subject.

"Psht, Jess, come on," Nick rolls his eyes, but is dead serious when he continues. "You deserve *NSYNC and nothing less."

"Nick," she's suddenly all bashful and wants to kiss him right there.

But instead of planting a kiss on him in the middle of the bar- the rest of the gang is having a very serious conversation about baby-proofing, it would be a very rude interruption to just,  _suck face right in the middle of it_ \- she does the next logical thing.

_'Hey, can't make it tonight. Sorry. Also I don't think this is gonna work out. But you've got a bright sexy future ahead of ya, I'm sure of it'_  she swiftly types into her phone before pressing send, feeling satisfied.

Steven's response: ' _:(_ '

She rolls her eyes with a dry chuckle.

"What's on your mind, Day?" Nick asks casually, not feeling the bassinet talk happening to his left.

"Wanna get outta here?" She goes out on a limb slightly, shrugging, but she just shut down her only other option, so she figures she might as well attempt, not to mention those pesky butterflies, wherever  _those_  came from.

_What's the worst that could happen? She looks like a complete and total lovesick idiot? Psht._

Once they're outside the bar, which Nick has no qualms about leaving and passing responsibility off to Big Bob, they stop for a second.

"So, boy band dreamy, huh?" Nick recalls, smirking.

"Yep. And he was my only prospect for tonight and I had to turn him down, soooo…" she trails off with a laugh.

"I wouldn't be so sure that he's your  _only_  prospect," Nick shrugs.

Jess plays dumb, glancing around for any additional parties who may be in the vicinity. "Who? Are you trying to set me up with Big Bob? I mean, great guy, clearly responsible, but-"

"Shut up," Nick laughs breathlessly, before breaking off her rambling with a kiss, which she quickly responds to by wrapping her arms around his neck and returning his enthusiasm,  _freaking finally_.

Panting, they break apart, their foreheads still touching, both wearing smiles so huge their faces might break.

"Take me home, Miller."

Laughing, he picks her up, bridal-style and starts carrying her back toward the loft.

"Wait, so, which *NSYNC member does that make me?" He asks with serious curiosity.

Jess laughs. "That is one secret I'll never tell."

Halfway down the block, he gets winded and has to put her down, and they continue walking hand-in-hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand that's all folks. Thanks for sticking with me on this bad boy, and I hope all the all-over-the-place-ness was worth it for you in the end! Literally the fastest fic I've ever published and I'd like to give a big thanks to myself, again, for writing it two whole years ago. Even though it's over I love your feedback! Exclamation points!


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